Our Favourite Holmes
by captaincatbones
Summary: Sherlock Holmes is a mystery to all, even his dear companion John Watson. But he has a secret that very, very few people in the world know - he has a sister. Join Sherlock, John and Adeline as they weave their way through crime in the modern city of London.
1. Author's Note

Hello there, people!

I'm going to assume that if you're reading this, you're a Sherlockian. Why would you read it otherwise? But if you aren't a Sherlockian, please know that (as far as we know) Sherlock doesn't actually have a sister. But he does have a brother - Mycroft.

Concerning ages, i am going to assume that... Sherlock is 28? And John is 31, Mycroft is 35, Addi is 19, and blah blah blah. In the TV show Sherlock is actually supposed to be around 33, I think.

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Sherlock Holmes (the BBC television show) nor anything to do with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's novels and short stories or any other form of Sherlock Holmes entertainment.

* * *

Summary:

Sherlock Holmes is a mystery to all, even his dear companion John Watson. But he has a secret that very, very few people in the world know - he has a sister.

Adeline Holmes is just as smart as her brothers, but luckily for you, more social. She is bright, outgoing, sunny, and more artistically inclined than her brothers. She is also, though, of course, a consulting detective. After a few years in America she returns (via kidnap) and rejoins her brother and solve mysteries with him. Join the adventures of the Consulting Detective, his colleague and his sister as they weave through the path of crime in the modern city of London.

* * *

All chapters will either be named as a Sherlock book/story or in the style of one.

I hope you enjoy it!

~RisorialParaph

PS. I really have NO idea how long to make chapters. Sorry if they're too long or short. *shrugs apologetically*


	2. Chapter One - A Case of Identity

John and Mrs. Hudson were out. The house was quiet. Sherlock sat silently in his chair, staring across at the floral wallpaper that covered the room and the yellow, spray-painted smiley face that decorated it. He longed for a case, a challenging one, anyway - Lestrade had only come in with a few unsolved murders, all with only a single killer with their own motives. All of those he solved within the space of time between lunch and dinner.

This was when Sherlock heard a knock on the door.

"Watson? John?" he called, momentarily lost in his thoughts, forgetting the absence of his colleague. Then, with all details remembered, he sighed and placed the violin that had been sitting on his lap on the coffee table. Another knock came.

"Be patient, will you?" he barked. The wooden stairs creaked as he walked, the old material bending slightly under his weight. Another knock.

"Oh, just be quiet! I'm almost there!" As the locks were unlatched with his slim hands and the door was opened, a rare spectacle was observed by the visitor - Sherlock's eyebrows were raised and he gasped in surprise.

"Hey, Sher." the girl at the door mumbled. Then she collapsed into his arms.

"Ow," Her head hurt like hell. She had no idea where she was, and her memory was a blur. "What-where am I?" she questioned, hoping for an answer from thin air. She appeared to be on a bed, in a room not her own.

_Oh, shit._ she thought._ Did I get drunk last night? That would explain the headache. Whose bedroom is this?_ Questions were answered when a tall, dark-haired figure walked into the room holding a steaming mug.

"Addi? You're awake, good." the concern in his voice barely showed through, and it was obvious that he hid his emotions well. But she analysed things for a part-time job.

"Where am I?"

"You're in London. My flat, my bedroom. You knocked on my door last night, remember?" He placed the mug on the bedside table, and carefully felt the girl's forehead with his hand. She was burning up, so he stood from his crouch and grabbed a washcloth from the cupboard.

"W-wait. Sh-Sherlock?" she stuttered as he ran some cold water over the cloth, then paced back over and laid it, folded up, on her head.

"Yeah. Addi, try to remember what happened. I have a guess, but you should tell me so I know." He was being gentle, and not too harsh.

_So unlike Sherlock,_ she thought. _Hey, I'm remembering things!_

"Sherlock?" A voice called from downstairs. Adeline had no idea who it was, and even less of what happened the night before.

"Sherlock? Whose coat is this? It looks like a woman's-" He stopped as he looked in the room. He was short, blond and had hazel eyes. He had obviously just gone out of town for a funeral, as he was wearing a very formal black suit, and some dog fur was on the shins of his trousers - long and white so he probably stayed with someone who owned a shi tzu. Sherlock looked up, then back at the girl.

"Who is that? Sherlock? Did you bring someone-"

"John. Outside. Now." he commanded, pointing at the man, who slowly slipped his head back behind the door.

"I'll be back in a second. I just have to explain you to him." he informed Adeline. He stood up, but not before turning the washcloth over and smiling gently at her.

Once the door closed, Adeline could vaguely hear their conversation, but she listened anyway while drinking the tea Sherlock had made for her.

"Who is that? And is she sick? I'm gone for one day and you manage to find some random person-"

"She's my sister."

"Well, of course she's your- Wait, what? You have a sister? And you never told me?"

"Calm down, John. She just came in last night, and once I opened the door she collapsed on me. She's been attacked."

"By who? Why would someone-"

"Oh, just be quiet, Watson! We'll do that later. For now, she needs to meet you."

The door opened up again.

"Addi, this is Mr. John Watson, my colleague. John, this is my sister, Adeline Holmes."

_Of course! How could I forget about John Watson? He's how I keep tabs on Sherlock, with all his blogging._ She reminded herself.

"Uh, hi, nice to meet you, Adeline. I'm John."

"I know. Please, call me Addi." she croaked as they shook hands.

"Okay, then."

"So I was attacked?" The question was aimed at Sherlock.

"Yes. Rather clumsily."

"Go on."

"Well. First off, there's a few rug burns on your arms. So you got shoved in a sack, and by the smell of your clothes it was burlap." he explained. He came off as mostly intrigued and calculating, but Adeline could see the worry in his eyes and hear the extremely slight waver in his voice.

"They obviously put you on a plane, because you were in America. A cargo plane, transporting animals - you looked like food. They brought you over here to use you to get a ransom, for either Mycroft or I. They let you out, which was a mistake - you have become a black belt in multiple martial arts as well as boxing and kickboxing - and you escaped, but not before they managed to get you drugged and they hit you on the back of the head with a pipe."

As he said it, pieces started fitting together in Adeline's mind - little flashbacks of darkness speckled with transparent light, a tunnel lit with flaming oil barrels, people with plague masks - and suddenly she remembered everything.

"Oh, ow, my head."she moaned. A painful headache came with the memories.

"You should rest, Addi." Sherlock moved quickly to her side, and threw the washcloth at John.

"Get a new one."

"Be nice, Sherlock." she whispered as she drifted off.

* * *

**'ELLO! I hope you like this story. It's my first time writing not only on , but also in third person. I generally write in first, on Wattpad.**

**Anyway, please, uh, like? And comment? And follow? And keep reading? I have no idea how to use this website, I've only just joined. Oh well. Do whatever, but please don't copy. I will be sad.**

**But most importantly...**

**ENJOY!**

**~RisorialParaph**


	3. Chapter Two - The Meeting of a Non-Robot

John studied the girl as she slept. She had a striking resemblance to Sherlock, but her face was much more feminine. Mycroft had told him one that while he got his a father's looks, Sherlock got their mother's - and it was clear that Adeline had gotten them as well.

She posed quite a mystery to John. He had never known whatsoever that Sherlock had any siblings other than Mycroft. And as far as he could tell, she was about ten years younger than him.

She had dark hair that framed her face, which contrasted with her pale skin - not quite Sherlock pale, but close - and she had the same light green eyes as him. He wondered if she and Sherlock had a different mother than Mycroft.

"John, go out and get her some clothes. She has nothing but the ones she came in. Size 16 for everything, size 7 shoes."

"Even..."

"Yes, John. Don't be childish. 34B."

"Why do you-"

"For goodness' sake just go."

John had gone out and awkwardly bought Adeline multiple sets of clothes. He had no idea what style she had so he just went with what most of the young women around him wore.

When he got back, he handed the bags over to her.

"Thanks, John. Sher, you should have gone."

"I have a reputation to keep." John sighed.

"So does he. And you have an excuse. Where are my other clothes?"

"Here." It was evidence, so Sherlock had kept it. But he wasn't going to go searching without permission from Adeline.

"Thanks. Now shoo. Both of you."

She looked at herself in the mirror. Thanks to John's intuition, he had bought her a hairbrush as well. She was wearing black Converse (almost, anyway), black skinnies, a yellow spaghetti-strap tank top under a white off-the-shoulder sweater and a yellow version of Sherlock's scarf. Her dark hair hung loosely, ending just below her shoulders.

As well as that she wore her most prized possession - a pocket watch. It wasn't really a pocket watch though, it was more of a neck watch in the style of a pocket watch. A long, dulled chain held the mini clock - it was a windup, and it was still on American time. She changed it, then closed it and studied the cover of the face.

It was beautiful, if slightly worn. The border of it had little four-pointed stars interchanging with rainbows. Inside the border were five-pointed stars, and only the outline of the stars were metal. The rest was just empty. You could slightly see the face if you looked through them.

She flipped it over to the back, decorated with thistles and small flowers with flowing lines. The watch was only about as big as an eye, but to her it meant everything. Sherlock had given it as a gift on her tenth birthday, and here it still was, fifteen years later.

"Addi? Are you okay?" came his voice. She placed the watch back under her sweater and walked towards the door. As she opened it, the smell of bacon wafted in.

"Sher, is that, could it be? Bacon?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"I believe so. Although I'm not sure if you should touch it - John's cooking."

"You shouldn't be so harsh on him. As far as I can tell he's the best thing that's ever happened to you."

"Oh please. Better things have happened."

"Like what?" He stared at her for a second, then turned and walked down the stairs. "Told you." she chuckled.

"Your bacon, milady."

"Why thank you, good knight." Sherlock looked questioningly at her, and she just shrugged.

They all sat around the table together, which Adeline had managed to clear all of the books off. It was extremely rare that the duo ate together at the table, as most of the time they had takeaway and Sherlock just sat and ate in the living room.

John looked over at Adeline. She was wearing some of the clothes he had bought her. But he didn't buy her a scarf.

"Where'd you get the scarf?"

"Oh, this?" she said, twiddling it around with her fingers. "Every Holmes has a scarf. Even Mycroft, he has a red one for when he's not wearing a suit."

"So, you're like the three primary colours then? Blue, yellow and red?" Sherlock and Adeline glanced at each other quickly, and he shook his head very slightly, a silent answer of 'no' to her silent question of 'does he know?'.

"Yup! They're basically all of our personalities as well - Mycroft has the big fancy life but he's really nice, I'm the most outgoing and sunny of us, and Sher's always shy and he can come across as cold and mean but if you know him for long enough you find the warmer, softer pastel colours." He sent a glare towards Adeline, but she just smiled.

"Okay... How long do you have to know him for?"

"Oh, I don't know... Ten years, maybe?" Another glare was sent flying but was deflected.

John laughed. It was nice to know that not all of the Holmeses were so detached and professional.

"So what do you do for a living?"

"I'm an artist, and occasionally an author."

"Really? Considering your brothers, I would have suspected something..."

"More crimey? Political? Yeah, most people do. But I'm also a freelance consulting detective."

"Aren't all Holmeses?" John chuckled. Adeline looked down for a minute, stirring her drink. He noticed a chain on her neck, mostly hidden by the scarf. The necklace went under her sweater so he couldn't see it.

"Could I see your necklace?" Both the Holmeses looked surprised.

"Uh, yeah, I guess." she complied, lifting the chain over her head and handing it to John.

It was a little pocket watch, embellished with stars, rainbows and flowers. He clicked open the cover and looked at the quartz face, plain yet stunning. He closed it and handed it back to Adeline.

"It's beautiful, you know. You should wear it out of your jumper." She nodded, and slipped it back around her neck but left it outside.

They put the dishes away and cleaned up, then moved to the living room. Adeline and Sherlock were on the couch and John was in the leather chair.

"I can't believe you still have that." Sherlock sounded scornful, but Adeline could tell that it was really amazement.

"Of course I do. I still have the scarf, don't I?"

John was lost. "Am I missing something?"

"I gave that to her for her birthday when I was twenty."

"And I was eleven." They pretty much confirmed his suspicions of their age gap. But he wondered why were they being so sentimental about just an old pocket watch.

"Um, so, are you used to this?" John gestured towards the mess in the room, created by Sherlock himself. John had always been amazed at how his mind was so organized, yet his living space was so... Well, disorganized.

"I've always been quite messy, so yeah. But I didn't see Sherlock that often, so I would have expected him to have grown out of the mess."

"Hmm. Well, he is quite childish."

"I'm still here, you know."

"Same old Sherly. You should get used to him in time."

"I've known him for a year and a bit."

"So you should be relatively familiar with his... hobbies. How many severed heads and fingers have you seen?"

"More than enough." The two laughed. Sherlock, however, scowled.

"You people just do not get the practical use of severed body parts." Adeline patted him on the head and placed her chin on his shoulder.

"Come on, Sher. I don't know if John does, but I certainly do."

"Yes. When was the last time you had a full body to examine?"

"I dunno. Lestrade and Molly are so much nicer than the American guys. All of those silly people just don't know how to examine things properly." She shook her head and sighed. "Anyway, I've got some shopping to do! You need anything?" The question was directed at John. Not only did she look at him, but her hand also covered Sherlock's mouth.

"Milk, tea, average things. Thanks." She nodded, got up, grabbed her coat and walked out. She also took Sherlock's keys.

"She seems nice."

"She is nice. That's how she's different." John's brow creased in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock scoffed.

"Oh, John, how I envy your mind. It must be so peaceful, being oblivious." John scowled. "You know what I mean. Anyway, you know me. You know Mycroft. We aren't exactly nice, are we? That's why she' different. She's sociable. Always has friends, always has company. She's still smart, but she believes in the whole 'emotions are what makes us who we are' thing. She needs emptions, in a way, or else she wouldn't be as good of an artist."

"So what you're saying is that your sister is actually not a robot?"

"Of course she's not."

"It was sarcasm, Sherlock. Sarcasm."

"Oh, shut up and make me tea."

"Why should-"

"Tea!" John mumbled a 'fine' and left to the kitchen to make some tea. Sherlock stood up, grabbed a gun and shot the wall.

"BORED!"

* * *

**Hello, again! Look, I'm posting this in the same day as my author's note and my first chapter to try and get more views and junk! Woo!**

**Anyway, I have gathered information from multiple sources to create this work of fiction. (If only it wasn't. *sighs*) My primary source: Wikipedia! That's everyone's favourite source of endless information.**

**Secondary source: John Watson's blog! Yes, it is real. And it will most likely come back online when season 3 comes out. *FANGIRL SCREAMING AND SPASMING* But anyway, it's really cool. Go check it out, just search john watson blog on google and it should be the first one that comes up. (The counter's still stuck on 1895! How cool is that?)**

**Whatever-the-name-is-for-the-third source: Sherlock's website! The Science of Deduction is also real. Of course, you can't actually try and get him to solve a case for you and unfortunately you cannot read about the Analysis of Tobacco Ash nor the Analysis of Perfumes, but it's still pretty cool. And to ruin it for you, in case you look, the third hidden message is using the pigpen cipher and it means 'SHERLOCK I HAVE FOUND YOU'. Wikipedia is amazing.**

**Peace out, sea pandas!**

**~Risorial Paraph**


	4. Chapter Three - The Mind-House

"Sherlock, have you shot the wall? I swear you still act the same as you did when you were 16." Adeline sighed as she walked back into the household of 221B Baker Street.

"I did no such thing!"

"You would have, had you had a gun. But you stabbed it with butter knives instead."

"He used to do this when he was younger?"

"All the time. Anything weird in the fridge?"

"Probably."

"Okay. Can you help me put it away? I'll be down in a second." She dropped some of the bags and went upstairs with the rest, putting them away in a box that she had bought in Sherlock's room. John grabbed the rest and went into the kitchen, putting the items away. When he was finished Addi came back down, and opened all of the cupboards to see what was in each.

"Um, what are you doing?"

"I need to know what's in each cabinet."

"Oh, okay. Storing it in your mind palace?" She turned to John, scowling slightly.

"I have a mind house. Obviously, all of this will go in my kitchen, along with the cooking instructions. People that I meet go in the living room, close friends and family go in the family room, information on food and the needs of people go in the dining room, you get the idea."

"Do you have a lab in your house?"

"Of course not! That goes in the office. I have less science information than Sherlock, but I have more useful information for people and everyday stuff. For instance, I know that the Earth goes around the Sun." Sherlock scowled. "But most of it is used for people, art and literature. I've got a huge art gallery in here, along with a library. My family and living rooms are quite large as well."

"Can I ask-"

"No, I don't have that in the bedroom. You're strange. I have decorating in them, as well as fashion, hobbies, furniture and my childhood."

"You... Store your childhood?" She shrugged.

"Pretty much."

"Okay then." She smiled.

"Oh, John. I pity you. You must have so few people to talk to when you're alone." John's brow creased for at least the tenth time that day.

"That was very Sherlock sounding of you."

"It was, wasn't it? I seem to have rubbed off on her a little too much." Sherlock added, entering the room. Adeline quickly finished her search of the kitchen and wandered back out.

"Sher, do you have a guitar? Oh, of course you don't. Yes, I remember that you play violin, twat!" She mumbled. Sherlock turned to her, an amused smile on his face. John was, yet again, confused.

"Addi, it would seem that you are talking aloud to me again." Her face lifted, heat rushing to her cheeks.

"Oh, um, sorry. I got a little caught up. You were being annoying."

"Aren't I always?"

"Oh, and by the way, can I come on this case?" She asked, right before Lestrade walked into the room.

"Sherlock, we've got a- Addi?" She grinned.

"Hey, Greg." They hugged.

"Aren't you-"

"Supposed to be in America? Yes. But one, they're boring, and two, I got kidnapped. So I'm here!"

"Kidnapped? When-"

"Night before last. Now can we get to the case?" Sherlock interrupted impatiently.

"Sherlock, your sister got abducted."

"Yeah, those aliens were pretty cool. Looked a bit like Simpsons characters, but in 3D." She joked. John laughed, Sherlock had a slightly amused smile and Lestrade looked confused.

"Abducted is the official word."

"For both humans and aliens, I know." She continued. Lestrade sighed.

"At least you have a sense of humour. Come on, we've got a suspected suicide in Northolt High School. Yes, not secondary, but high school. I assume you're not going in the police car?" Sherlock just looked at him, and he sighed. "I'll see you there in half an hour." The trio watched him as he left.

"Saw him coming up the stairs."

"What?"

"You were wondering how I knew a case was coming. I saw him walking up the stairs."

"Mind-reading. Always with the mind-reading." She smiled and grabbed her coat. It was strikingly similar to Sherlock's, but instead of the dark it was a light, off-white colour. It brought attention to her brown hair, which was straight at the top but curly towards the bottom.

"Come on then. This is the first real case I've had in ages!"

"Oh, well this is boring."

"It always is." The trio were in a cab, close to the destination of the supposed suicide. They had been sitting in silence for about 15 minutes when Adeline had spoken.

"I wish I had a blowgun right now."

"Why?" John questioned.

"Well, Sherlock likes to shoot and stab walls, but I like to attack them with my amazing blowdart aim."

"How can you aim at a wall?"

"He aims at them, doesn't he?" She said, pointing to Sherlock. John nodded.

"Yup. But why a blowgun?"

"Less lethal."

"So you don't want to kill a wall."

"Adeline here disapproves of killing people, unless in self defence. Thus the karate and boxing classes."

"I have no idea of how to use a gun." She shrugged.

"Yes you do."

"I deleted it."

"But you might need it!"

"No I won't, I have my other methods."

"Sometimes a gun is the most useful thing you can have."

"I like bows and arrows better. As long as the arrows are blunt and you don't kill them." Silence ensued. An awkward silence. So, naturally, John decided to break it.

"So, how was America?"

"Boring, lonely, boring. Did I mention boring?"

"How long were you there?"

"Two years and a bit."

"Okay." More silence. It continued until they arrived at the crime scene.

"Joy, no more boringness!" Adeline pretty much leapt out of the cab, over Sherlock's lap.

"Does she enjoy this as much as you do?" John questioned Sherlock. He shook his head.

"Not even close. She hates seeing innocent people killed, but this is a suicide, which she's fine with. And anyway, she hates having nothing to do."

"A lot like you then." Sherlock scowled.

"Well, Thalia, if I were you, I'd stay away from Sherlock Holmes. Oh, here he is now. Freak." Donovan turned away from Addi, looking disgusted at Sherlock. But 'Thalia' pulled a funny face which made Sherlock smile and John laugh. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, right, I forgot to mention." Addi stepped towards Sherlock, facing the woman. "My name's actually Adeline, and this 'freak' here is my big brother."

"Oh god, there's two of them. I don't think I'll survive the week."

"No, you probably won't. And you want to know why? Because Anderson's going to break up with you." She smirked and walked away, trailed by Hat-man and Robin.

"What was that?"

"Mischeif."

"Not like you."

"American universities change you, Sherly-Sher. Change you." She grabbed the collar of his coat for a dramatic effect. Sherlock just winced at the nickname while John laughed.

"Let's go see this 'suidide', shall we?"

* * *

**'Ello! Do you like it? Do you like Addi? When not in dialogue, would you prefer me to call her Addi or Adeline? Pwease tew me! I'm wonewy wifout you!**

**Peace out, sea pandas!**

**~RisorialParaph**


	5. Chapter Four - The Almost Suicide

"Suicide, almost." Adeline stated after just 10 minutes in the room. Sherlock raised an eyebrow and John's mouth formed an 'o'.

"Explain." Commanded Sherlock. She sighed.

"Well, her eyes are closed, so she was expecting it. You don't die with your eyes closed if you are trying to get help now, do you? And the missing knocked over chair, you use a chair if you need to hang yourself and then kick it to get the whole 'hanging' part right. Otherwise you're just standing on a chair with a rope around your neck."

"Go on."

"Well, considering the amount of balled-up paper pieces in the bin, she obviously was trying to write a note. So why quit? If you want to say goodbye permanently, you don't just not say goodbye because you stutter. And she had an infinite amount of time, she could have just kept going. And her clothes. Now these are interesting. She has a formal black dress on, but she's in high school. That means date. But by the length of it, she was definitely not trying to get this man's attention. Or she's been forced to wear one with a longer bottom than the one she chose. But because there has been no attempt to roll it up or change it, this means option one." John, Lestrade and the other members of the room, not including Sherlock, seemed astounded.

"Get to the almost part."

"Right. Well, because of the clothes it is going to be her parents who got her into this. So who's she seeing? A family friend, perhaps. Or their son. Someone who knows that she is an only child. I can tell because she's had no broken bones, because of no one to play with. Her family's rich, as shown by the dress. So the assistant, the date, family friend, whatever, probably knows that once her parents are dead he'll get the money. They have no other family. She has no pictures in her wallet but one of a boy, obviously a past boyfriend. So that's the no family part covered.

"As evident from the wheelchair-handling marks on her hands, her father is in a wheelchair, which means that he can't have sex. Therefore her mother got bored and went to see someone else. The husband doesn't know, but the 'friend' does and plans to tell the husband, make him depressed, get a divorce. Change the will to say everything goes to his best friend who was there in his time of need. Then he'll do the same thing to him as he did to this girl. Get them drunk, tell them that everything in their life is ruined, help them kill themselves. Steal the note, make sure no one knows the cause."

"Well done indeed." Sherlock complemented.

"Well, now what? Shouldn't we go find this man?"

"And arrest him with what? Getting someone drunk and talking to them? I don't think that counts as a crime." Lestrade contradicted.

"Oh, don't worry. He'll come soon enough. He only did it because he was in debt, and soon he should come crying to you guys to help him. Which you should deny, and say that you know he killed her. Then he should say that it was him who killed her, he actually forced her at gunpoint after she was drunk, which by the way, had a poison in it that takes a while to work. So he did kill her, but only after she had killed herself."

"That makes no sense whatsoever, freak two." Donovan smirked. Lestrade glared at her and was about to tell her off when Sherlock interrupted.

"Well done, Addi. In only half the time I figured it out. I believe our guest should come either in a minute, or tomorrow. John, we're leaving." The trio walked out of the door, leaving an angry Sally Donovan in their wake.

* * *

When they got back to the flat, Adeline grabbed Sherlock's phone and ordered pizza.

"We're having pizza for dinner." She announced as the doorbell rung. She grinned at John, who sighed and grabbed his walet to pay, but as he opened it he found an extra £100.

"Where did this come from?"

"I paid you back for the clothes. And a bit extra for the pizza. Could you go get it, please?" He rolled his eyes but smiled and got the door.

"Pizza." Adeline jumped up and grabbed one of the boxes.

"My precious..." She said, petting it. John laughed at the Lord of the Rings reference while Sherlock just raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Which one's mine?"

"Open them and find out." John and Adeline ate their pizzas, the former leaving some leftovers. "Sher, aren't you going to eat?" All she got was a shake of his head as an answer.

"He barely ever does." Adeline's eyebrows creased a bit in slight anger at her brother for not taking care of himself properly.

"I thought this had stopped. You may have grown physically, but you're still the same mentally as you were in uni." She grabbed a piece of his pizza and started moving it towards him. "Here comes the train..." He batted it away with his hand like a cat at a laser.

"I'm going to go wrap this up." John stood up and took his leftovers with him, moving to the kitchen and preserving the slices with clingfilm while Adeline was still attempting to feed Sherlock. She finally stopped and sat on the couch, twiddling her thumbs in thought.

"It's weird that I'm only 19. I mean, I've seen more dead bodies than most normal people, I have a job, I don't go to uni anymore and I'm smarter than virtually everyone my age. I'm still only as mature as a uni student, though!" She picked up a pillow and threw it at an unsuspecting John. Shocked, surprised and confused, he stood stock still has Addi burst into a fit of laughter and giggles. By the end she was hiccuping like crazy.

"You have hiccups," her brother pointed out. She blank-faced him.

"No #!*% , Sherlock. Hey, that should become a saying! How cool would that be if you became a saying, Sher?"

"Not 'cool' at all."

* * *

_**Hello all who are reading! I do apologize for not posting. I have a short attention span, see, and when I become interested in something I immediately drop whatever I was previously interested in. But now that I'm almost fourteen, I have realized that it is irresponsible to leave people hanging like that. So from now on I will post more chapters more regularly. Have a wonderful day.**_

_**~captaincatbones**_


End file.
